#RE:8

[executivenerd]

Starting with Resident Evil 7 and 8 was a mistake, because I adore Ethan to an insane amount. Like the super cheesy terrible one liners being said by the whitest husband/dad? Totally acceptable. Him being clueless and not knowing what's going on and freaking out? Totally normal.

But now I'm playing Resident Evil 4 and watching Leon do something incredibly bad ass and then ending it with the lamest line of all time is so much harder to deal with. Don't get me wrong, I'm still enjoying the game but the cheesy dialogue works so much better with Ethan than pretty much anybody else.

[averysexyleon]

Salvatore Moreau Moodboard;

from WATB series

with brad dourif as an un-mutated salvatore moreau

resident evil village

“I lived through the same plague as Miranda,” he began again, kneeling at the headstone.  Ethan could only see the back of Moreau’s head, but he heard the crippling pain in the man’s trembling voice.  

“She was older than me.  Lived here, she already had….well…” His dark head turned to glance at Eva.  “You, I suppose.  I survived because I was at sea when the outbreak happened.  My first schooner.  I was young–it was our family rite of passage.  Oh….how I loved the Black Sea.  But my mother died from that outbreak.  I am so sad I was not here.  My father, he survived.  He was the village doctor, you see…but horrible, horrible.  I was never any kind of scientist.”  

Moreau laughed bitterly, and Ethan heard the hint of the taunting Lord within his voice.  He tried to keep his lip from curling, which left him with a very perturbed expression that Moreau did not see. 

“When I returned, I was not treated kindly.  Miranda was studying in his clinic, and…well,” he turned back to them, his eyes glistening.  “I suppose you know what she did next.” 

“All too well, I’m afraid,” Eva said.  She lowered herself gingerly to the grass. Moreau sat back on his haunches, clearly willing and ready to talk–to her, at least. 

“My mutation was very slow.  It took my intelligence as the years went by.  I can’t even remember much after I lost my vocabulary.  I tried so hard to hold on.  My father disowned me, of course…Miranda then became my mother.”  

Another bitter laugh.  “I was good at fishing.  She didn’t want good at fishing.”  

[blithe-spirit]

Can’t sleep and had RE:8 brainrot, this is too short for ao3 so here you go.

Donna Benevieto has always been alone.

Wooden fingers entwined with her own, a halfhearted smile in a cracked mirror, a note of rare praise from those deigned her family - none of it can change the accepted fact that she has always, always been alone.

Not always, says that voice in her head, a warm echo that gently caresses the back of her skull. As if a hand was resting there, protectively, smoothing over hair. Not always, cara mia.

Donna does not listen. She never does.

She has always been alone, and will remain so until her flesh rots and her tendons give way and she collapses, inanimate, to the ground. Her precious flowers will find purchase for their roots in her body, will grow and stretch towards the sunlight by grace of her flesh. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she will remain this marionette of her Mother’s for eternity, skin replaced by pale and cool porcelain and joints of wood. Perhaps the thing that lives inside the meat of her body will extend its tendrils throughout, claiming every nerve, and she will belong to nothing and no one except to that which they all serve.

She is particularly morose today.

On days like these Donna retreats to her workshop, studying her plans and carefully carving the most delicate of features from blocks of dull wood. She imagines she is unearthing each creature, freeing them almost, as a proud straight nose emerges here, a frightened brow there. Donna’s concentration is hard to break during these moments, channeling her thoughts of twisted roots and rotten things that wait in the dark, on the edges of dreams, into the very dolls she creates. She half expects them to crumble on her worktable before her with the weight of her fears. Surely they could not last long in this world after soaking in her wretched misery. Her loneliness.

She will talk to them sometimes, either in hushed tones or more privately in her head. Donna will tell them what the rushing waterfall sings to her as she designs, hands on the chisel or carefully holding minuscule screws. How her flowers chatter as they bend and snake around one another, reveling in a green embrace. How some days the house is so quietly loud with the sound of her own wants that it is impossible to bear.

On other days, Donna’s creations are impossibly light, kinetic, looking at their new world with bright and fresh faces painstakingly painted on. She will hum a tune as she outfits them, a tune that was once hummed to her, long ago, in what seems to have been a dream.

It must have been, for Donna Benevieto has always been alone.

[nashvillehotchicken]

just noticed the handgun bullets in re:8 are the same brand as the ones in tew am i stupid

[averysexyleon]

@wintersandthebeast

@thelightningthatjumpsbetween

@ourmotherthemountainfic

let's see where we're at word wise. gimme a sec.

and we're not even at the happy ending yet! Come follow along please, or at least give a very tired old man a kudos. pls.

link to newest fic

Ethan: I hate you

Karl, in his head: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst with happy ending, 300k+ words

[mimimar]

(open pages for better image quality)

the moment I heard elphaba's delivery of "there's a girl i know..." in i'm not that girl i knew i had to draw this comic, i strongly recommend listening to it while you read for the full experience!

this comic is a companion to this piece (which was inspired by glinda's delivery of the same line in the i'm not that girl reprise).

pages 1-4 are from elphie's pov, pages 5-8 are from glinda's.

prints of individual pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

flower meanings in order of appearance:

[diviedrawn]

“I will always protect you”

[rasb7rry]

the closet is GLASS

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

[toomanyfurryocs]

When you have a big character, and there's a very well known Big lady with a very very gorgeous outfit it's only a matter of time before they mix. Tysa's last name may not be Dimitrescu but she clearly pulls off her look

[heartdoomed]

Yes I’m alive.

Yes she’s judging your sense of fashion.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Historians Hate Him

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nihapiyas]

Faceless ethan my beloeveed (if i did the wrong hand no i dint bc i drew this without refernce at wirk leav me alone 😞)

[elyon-art]

The dashing lady of Dimitrescu Castle

[viribuskirk]

throwing your voice

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠